


would've loved you for a lifetime

by scarlettroses



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Break Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, davey is obscenely wealthy and jack works for the jacobs, good ol teenage heartbreak, oh and it gets slightly nsfw for a second but like. barely, period piece baby!! 1860s rural new york type beat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettroses/pseuds/scarlettroses
Summary: 1867."What are you thinking about, mon cœur?"They're still laying in bed together, still pressed up so close that Jack can feel Davey's words. Davey speaks so many languages that Jack has no clue what pet name he's just been called— all he knows is that it sounded pretty rolling off Davey's tongue."You," Jack replies. "How lovely you are, and how lucky I am to have known you for so long."
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy. this is in response to the prompts "don't you think you've done enough?" and "how do you sleep at night?" so you may be able to see where this is headed... hop aboard the angst train!! 
> 
> for some reason the prompts just screamed "period piece" to me, so here we have a lil 1860s very tender coming of age story. the setting is sort of little women inspired- think rural new england in post-civil war america. what a perfect palce to yearn.
> 
> anyways, please enjoy!!!!

_1867._

"I could get lost in your eyes, David."

They're blue, but not a blue that Jack has ever seen in anyone else's eyes. They're not pale, like the sky on a cloud-free day— they're a deep blue, almost reminiscent of the bottom of the ocean. Jack supposes he could swim right into them and never return, lost in the depths of the unknown.

They get a little brighter when Davey smiles, and he does just that. They're laying on his bed, their faces so close together that Jack can feel every one of Davey's exhales on his lips. Jack wants to kiss him, but he'd like to savour this moment first.

"Stare a little harder, why don't you?" Davey laughs. His voice is gentle, and a bit deeper now that they're older, a rumble in his chest that Jack can nearly feel in his own when they're pressed together like this. "You ought to finally paint me, it might last longer."

Jack silently thanks the lord that his tan skin doesn't blush easily, especially now, when the heat of the summer over the past couple months has deepened his skin colour even further. He can feel a flush rise to his cheeks, but he's sure Davey won't see it, since they're only illuminated by moonlight through the window.

"Is it wrong to adore you?" Jack asks, raising a hand to stroke Davey's cheek. "I'd stare at you all day if I could."

"I already stare at you all day," Davey replies. "So I suppose we're square."

It's half-true— the study where Davey is tutored in the afternoons has several grand windows overlooking the main garden that Jack usually tends. He'll often look up to see Davey staring down at him, having abandoned whatever studies he was meant to be focusing on.

Davey abandoning his studies is how they met, in fact. They were twelve or so, and it was Jack's first week of work in the gardens of the Jacobs family's summer home— he was still apprenticing under Miss Medda, learning how to prune the flower bushes to perfection and care for each and every plant on the massive estate, when Davey all but ran right into him.

-

_1862._

"Hello there."

Jack startles, looking up from where he's been meticulously trimming the bottom leaves of a rosebush, to see a boy his own age standing over him.

"Hello," Jack replies. Any of the other kids he's met here have been employees or children thereof— the Jacobs seem willing to provide work with decent wages for any poor child that needs it, which is awfully nice of them— so he extends his hand to shake without thinking much of it. "I'm Jack."

The boy smiles and shakes Jack's hand, with an oddly formal air to how he moves. His posture is upright and his handshake is firm, almost like a miniature adult.

"I'm David." He looks around, as if to be sure no one else is nearby, and then he crouches down next to Jack with a mischievous grin. "Do you mind if I hide here for a bit?"

Jack smiles right back, confused and amused.

"That's fine by me, but can I ask who's chasing you? Should I be running too?"

David laughs.

"Oh, don't worry, I promise I won't get you in trouble. I'm just... not where I'm supposed to be right now. No matter who finds me, I'm sure they'll give me heck, but I just couldn't stay inside any longer."

Jack isn't sure what to think of David, but he just shrugs and laughs along, turning back to the task that Medda had set him up with. He's sure she'll be proud of him if he gets it all done without getting too distracted and making silly mistakes.

"Alright then," he says, and he takes the tiny gardening shears to the leaves again, making sure the edges of the bush are completely even. "I'll try not to blow your cover."

They both giggle softly, and then there's a moment of quiet, during which Jack can feel that he's being watched rather closely. David finally breaks the silence.

"Do you work here?"

Jack snorts out a laugh before he can help it.

"Well, it'd be awfully strange of me to go around trimming the bushes if I didn't," he replies, which manages to fluster David, making him flush a little pink with embarrassment. "I only just started this week, so maybe that's why we haven't met. I've been busy— there's sure a lot of plants to take care of."

David's expression is unreadable for a moment, in a way that Jack can tell is well-trained. Someone must've taught him that wearing your thoughts on your face is impolite, because he's obviously making some sort of judgement, but it's a mystery as to what.

"Do you like working here?"

Jack, in the opposite of David's composed politeness, shoots him an inquisitive look as he shrugs.

"You ask a lot of questions," he says, before actually getting to his answer. "It's alright, I suppose. Work is work, and this is leagues better than a factory. I can't complain about a fair wage and somewhere safe to sleep."

David's face remains frustratingly neutral as he nods. He's still watching Jack closely, which is uncomfortable to say the least.

"You're awfully young to have a job," he finally says. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Jack laughs, more confused than anything— this kid certainly asks odd questions.

"You're no older than I am," he retorts, not wanting to get into the long-winded story of how he ended up here— his father going off to fight with the Union army and leaving him in a _children's home_ that was really just a rotten workhouse, running away from there, and eventually finding Medda, who offered to get him a solid job. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Ah— well, you see..." David's face falls into an awkward grimace. "That's what I'm hiding from. I'm on the run from my tutor— he's the most boring man I've ever met, and if he makes me read any longer, I think my eyes will go crossed. I was hoping that coming out to the summer home would mean I get to play outside, but I've been cooped up in the library every day!"

Suddenly, and sharply, it dawns on Jack— David doesn't work here, he _lives_ here. He's one of the Jacobs! Jack had known they had children, but the only run-in he's had with any member of the family until now was briefly meeting Esther on his first day of work— he hadn't even known what her children would look like, nor did he know their names, so how could he have realized that David was one of them?

Before Jack can even say anything, they're interrupted by a shout from elsewhere in the garden.

"Davey! Mom's going to _kill_ you!"

David's eyes go wide.

"Oh no, they've sent my sister after me," he whispers, in a rush. "I have to go. It was lovely to meet you, Jack."

And then he's off like a bullet, running out of the garden to hide somewhere else. Jack thinks about him for the rest of the day.

-

 _1867_.

"What are you thinking about, _mon cœur_?"

They're still laying in bed together, still pressed up so close that Jack can feel Davey's words. Davey speaks so many languages that Jack has no clue what pet name he's just been called— all he knows is that it sounded pretty rolling off Davey's tongue.

"You," Jack replies. "How lovely you are, and how lucky I am to have known you for so long."

Davey's nose scrunches, embarrassed.

"You flatter me far too much, darling. I'm afraid you'll make my head so big it falls right off my shoulders."

Jack kisses him to shut him up. Davey hates compliments, but Jack loves to give them to him, so sometimes a distraction has to be employed to keep him from whining too much about it.

"Don't you think it's hot in here?" Jack asks once they pull away for breath, willing to acquiesce and change the topic if it means moving on to not talking at all. He slides his hands up Davey's shirt, fondling his lean torso and hinting for him to undress.

Davey laughs, tossing his head back against his pillows and rolling onto his back, pulling Jack along with him to sit on top and straddle his hips. His hands find their way to Jack's waist, pushing up the hem of his shirt just like Jack had been doing to him.

"Oh, I agree," Davey says, grinning up at Jack. "Terribly hot. You'll have to take this off, won't you?"

Jack is quick to oblige. He forsakes even unbuttoning it, simply pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. His clothes aren't nearly as nice as Davey's, most of them used and secondhand, so he's not too worried about being careful with them, especially not in a moment like this.

"It's only fair if yours comes off too," he says, leaning down to whisper it against Davey's mouth. "I'm not just here to give you a show."

Davey smiles and pulls Jack in for another kiss. It's hot and fervent, and it makes Jack think of how different things are from last summer. Last year was the first time they kissed, the first time they thought of being anything more than best friends— they were only fifteen, and everything was tentative. Call him naive, but Jack hadn't even realized that boys _could_ kiss other boys until he saw Racetrack, who minds the horses, kissing a delivery boy behind the stables. Kissing Davey was entirely new and sort of terrifying, back then.

This summer, Davey had come back to the country home for the season several inches taller and having gained a broadness and muscularity reminiscent of a young man— Jack hasn't gotten quite as tall, but he supposes he must have filled out in a similar way. They're each more confident now, and it's translated into everything they do, especially into the way they've started to explore all the things their bodies can do together.

"Be a dear and help me with the buttons, why don't you?" Davey runs a hand through Jack's hair to mess it up, their faces still close together, and he smiles in that particularly charming way that he only does when they're in a heated moment like this.

"Too lazy to do it yourself, huh?" Jack teases, but he listens anyways and starts to unbutton Davey's shirt. He kisses down his jaw and neck as he does so, revelling in the little gasps of pleasure and hitches in Davey's breath that this coaxes out. They have to be quiet— as big as this house is, there's always a chance of someone walking by— but Jack adores the near-silent noises Davey makes for him. "Does that feel good, darling?"

"God, Jack..." Davey whispers, almost desperately. "You're so beautiful."

The shirt is fully unbuttoned, and Jack is slowly moving his attention further down Davey's torso. He's just about to start working on the button of his trousers, pausing first to move back up and kiss Davey's lips yet again, smiling into it, and—

"David? Are you awake?"

The bedroom door swings open, without so much as a knock.

Jack's stomach drops to his toes. It was supposed to be locked. Davey _always_ locks it, so that if someone comes by Jack at least as time to hurry back out the window, the way he came in. He must have forgotten tonight.

"What the hell is going on here?"

It's Mayer. Oh god, it's Davey's father. They're fucked.

Jack pulls away from Davey immediately, and they lock eyes for a brief moment, utterly panicked. Without wasting any time, Jack fumbles to grab his shirt and then takes off, climbing out the window that they'd left propped open and following his familiar path down the side of the balcony to land on the dew-soaked grass below.

"David Isaac Jacobs!" Mayer shouts, from inside. Jack finds himself backing up against the wall of the house, directly under the balcony, so that he won't be spotted if Mayer looks out the window. He claps a hand over his mouth to try and keep his heavy breathing from giving him away. "What on God's green earth did I just walk in on!?"

"Dad," Davey's desperate, terrified voice hardly carries out the window for Jack to hear. "It was nothing, I swear. We were just... fighting! Um, he came onto me, and I didn't know what to do, I-"

"Bullshit!" Mayer snaps. "Don't you dare lie to me, young man. It was that no-good gardener boy that you're always spending so much time with, wasn't it? The pair of you are a couple of queers."

"No!" Davey shouts. "That's crazy! It's not— it's not like that at all!"

Davey has never been any good at lying. Mayer slaps him so hard that the crack of it echoes out the window, making Jack immediately feel sick with guilt. He's hiding out here like a coward while Davey is punished for what they did _together_. He could have stayed and defended him, taken the consequences like a man.

"Watch your attitude, boy."

" _Please_ , Dad," Davey all but sobs. "I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry you got _caught_. Jesus, I don't even remember what I came in here for— it doesn't matter anyways. Go to sleep and I'll deal with you in the morning."

The quiet once he's stormed off is eery, and Jack waits beneath the balcony a moment longer to make sure he's actually in the clear. He considers climbing back up to see if Davey is alright, but then the window slams shut above him and the lock clicks into place.

It seems like he'll have to go sleep in his own bed for once.

-

Selfishly, Jack avoids working anywhere near the actual house throughout the next day.

He's a little worried that if he runs into Mayer he'll be fired on the spot, so he does his best to stay out of sight and out of mind— he works on the trees that surround the perimeter of the property, and then spends a good while bothering Race in the stables. He supposes that if Davey wants to see him, he'll come looking.

He doesn't come. In fact, for a couple of days, Davey is nowhere to be seen. Jack doesn't yet have the courage to return to his bedroom window at night, for fear of being caught, but he keeps an eye out for him around the grounds all day. Even as he's watering the main gardens, finally forced to go near the house again, he doesn't notice Davey in his usual spot by the library windows. He's practically dropped off the face of the earth.

The first of the Jacobs family that Jack actually speaks to is, surprisingly, Les.

"Jack!" The eight year-old is charging at him through the rows of carefully tended flowers, the same way a much younger Davey used to run from his governess and tutor. "There you are!"

Jack forces himself to smile as he sets down the watering can, giving his tired arms a much-needed break.

"Hey kiddo," he laughs, making a show of stumbling a few steps backwards with the force of Les' running hug. "Woah, you're awful strong. You'll knock me right over one of these days, if you're not careful."

Jack adores Les, he really does. The kid is fascinated by everything Jack says or does, which is entirely adorable, and he often comes seeking him out in the garden if he tires of playing by himself while his siblings are busy.

"I've been looking for you," Les sighs, dramatically. "You weren't in the garden yesterday, or even this morning! I'm not supposed to go running too far from the house, so I couldn't even go find you, wherever you were. I thought you were gone for good!"

"Aw, buddy," Jack chuckles, ruffling his hair. "I was just working on some of the big trees around the edges of the yard. They needed someone tall to go reach the high branches. I'm back to my usual job now, though."

Les frowns.

"You're not _that_ tall. David is taller."

"I suppose you're right." Jack picks the watering can back up to keep working away while he chats with Les. "He could probably reach even higher branches than I could— maybe he should have come out and helped me."

Les huffs and folds his arms over his chest.

"He hasn't left his room in _days_. He won't even come to dinner— Mama just takes his food and leaves it outside his door. I knocked and he wouldn't even talk to me"

That's... unsettling. Either Davey is too upset to leave his room, or he's in so much trouble that he's not allowed to— Jack isn't sure which option is worse. He might have to risk paying a visit tonight.

"Well, isn't that odd," Jack replies, doing his best not to externalize how worried he is. "Maybe he's sick. Or, you know, teenagers just get moody sometimes— maybe he's upset about something. I wouldn't worry too much."

Les seems satisfied with this answer, so he nods and drops the subject, happy to follow Jack around and chatter about whatever comes to mind for the rest of the afternoon.

-

When he's absolutely sure that it's dark enough for no one to see him, Jack darts across the lawn towards the house.

He's done this a million times before, but tonight feels different. The run from the stables— where he typically shares the attic with Race, Albert and Crutchie as a bedroom of sorts— feels ridiculously long, and the twisting ball of nervousness in his stomach is nearly making him sick. He doesn't usually get scared while climbing the balcony, but tonight he's got a horrible inkling of dread telling him he might slip.

He makes it up, though, and he's face to face with Davey's closed window. It's dark, but he can see a hunched over figure sitting on the bed. He taps gently on the glass.

Davey glances up, and they make eye contact for a moment, but then he simply frowns and looks away. Jack isn't willing to give up that easy, though, so on a whim, he tries lifting the window open. To his surprise, it slides right up.

"Don't even think about it, Jack." Davey whips around immediately, looking angrier than Jack's ever seen him. "We can't do this. You have to leave."

Jack raises his hands in surrender, only leaning his top half into Davey's room, not climbing all the way through.

"I only want to talk," he says. "Les told me you were upset, so I thought I'd come see if there's anything I can do."

Davey scoffs, rolling his eyes like a petulant child.

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Jack frowns, confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_ you've done enough damage," Davey snaps. "My father hates me now. He won't even speak to me. He's locked me in my room, and now he's sending me to boarding school come autumn, and it's all because of _you_." There are tears welling in his eyes, but he huffs and wipes them away. "Go away, and don't come see me again. My life is _ruined_ and it's your fault."

For a moment, Jack is speechless. What the _hell_? First of all, it's not as if Davey didn't invite him right into his bed in the first place— and he was the one who forgot to lock the door! Really, Jack is innocent here. The only one Davey ought to be mad at is Mayer. Secondly, he's simply astounded by how obnoxiously privileged Davey is. Now, Jack Kelly is slow to anger most of the time— he can't even recall a moment, at least since he's been employed by the Jacobs, that he's ever lost his temper. He certainly has a lot to be angry about, given the rotten hand he's been dealt in life, but it rarely ever gets to him.

In this moment, however... he feels as if he's about to snap.

"Ruined?" Jack asks, surprising himself by matching Davey's angry tone. " _This_ is your idea of your life in ruins? Good lord, are you even hearing yourself?"

Davey's jaw drops.

"You can't speak to me like that! I told you to leave— go away right now."

His words feel like a punch to the stomach. It's a cruel reminder that even after everything they've shared, Jack is nothing more than a servant who ought to know his place. How _dare_ he treat Davey as an equal, right?

If he knew what was good for him, he'd walk away, but Jack is so horribly furious that the words come rushing out before he can stop them, years of pent-up frustration finally spilling over.

"No, listen to me," he snaps. "Put yourself in my shoes for _one_ god damn second, and think about what you just said. Your parents— which you _have_ , by the way— are sending you to some fancy, expensive school, and _that's_ the greatest hardship you've ever faced? Do you know how many people would kill for that chance!? You could write letters to tell me how horrible boarding school is, but I wouldn't even know how to fucking read them, because I've never even _been_ to school! How do you expect me to feel _sorry_ for you?"

"I don't!" Davey replies, all cross and defensive. "I don't care if you feel sorry for me or not, because you wouldn't understand! It's not _my_ fault that you're poor. My family has been so good to you— in fact, you ought to be _thanking_ me for convincing my father not to fire you, after what happened the other night. It'd do you well to be a little more grateful for-"

"Shut up!" Jack yells, losing his patience entirely. "You're so goddamn selfish, I owe you nothing! _Everything_ you have is built on the backs of people like me, who don't have a choice but to work because we've got nothing else— how do you _sleep_ at night!? You'd be nothing without us poor folk, and you're no better than me just 'cause you've got money and a family. You're a naive, spoiled brat, David, and I can't _believe_ I ever fell for you."

Davey isn't so quick to respond this time. The silence that follows is horribly loud, hanging heavy between them with words that probably would've been better left unsaid. Davey's cold expression has crumpled into something hurt and vulnerable, and it almost makes Jack feel bad about being so harsh— his red-hot anger has rushed away like a receding tide, and now he simply feels stunned that he even lost his temper like that.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally says, once the silence has dragged on for too long. "I didn't mean to get so angry." He pauses. "I should go. I'll stay out of your way from now on."

Davey sniffles and wipes quickly at his eyes, as if he's trying to hide that he's tearing up. Jack's stomach sinks with guilt at the realization that he's made him cry.

"I promised my father I'd never talk to you again," he mumbles, his voice wet and choked up. "You have to leave before someone catches us."

Jack nods. He can see that it's not him that Davey is really angry with— it just makes it easier to push him away if he blames him for everything. It hurts, but he understands.

"Okay," he sighs, and he finds himself swallowing tears of his own. "I'll always love you, Davey. I mean that."

And then he can't bear to watch Davey cry any longer, so he leaves. He climbs down the balcony for the last time and runs back across the lawn to the stables, hoping the wind hitting his face will be a good enough excuse for the tears in his eyes.

-

 _1868_.

It's Davey's first day back at the summer home, and he's been wandering the grounds by himself all day.

The new boarding school wasn't so bad, really, and he's honestly rather excited to go back for his senior year in the fall. It's a lot harder than his old school, a private academy near their other home in Manhattan that he'd attended with Sarah for years, but he sort of enjoys the challenge. He's even made some friends, which he was worried he wouldn't be able to do without his sister by his side.

He owes Jack an apology. He's grown a lot this year, and he can finally see that everything Jack said was true— he's been selfish and naive for too long, and he needed the rude awakening. He's ready to try again, and perhaps do a better job of keeping their secret rendezvous an _actual_ secret, if only Jack will have him. He's got an open heart, and if Jack can forgive him, he'd love to let him back in.

The problem he's facing right now is that Jack is nowhere to be seen. He's walked in loops around the property and has yet to run into him— so he eventually finds himself wandering into the stables, hoping that maybe someone here might have a clue as to where Jack is at.

"Hey," he interrupts a boy about his own age who's shovelling straw into one of the stalls. "Have you seen Jack around at all today?"

The boy looks up with a confused frown.

"Jack _Kelly_?"

"That's the one. I need to talk to him— I've been looking all over."

The boy still looks confused, and lets out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, um... I'm sorry, sir, but Jack hasn't worked here for months. He quit in November and I haven't heard from him since."

Davey's heart sinks.

 _No_. That's not how this was supposed to go. Davey was going to come back and Jack would be here, just like every summer. They were going to talk it out— Davey was ready to beg for forgiveness if he had to— and they'd be okay. They'd be in love, just like they were before. Jack wasn't supposed to _leave—_ where would he even have gone?

"Do you know where he went?" Davey asks, desperate enough to startle the poor stable boy a bit. "Did he say, before he left?"

Maybe he can find him. Maybe he's not far, just working somewhere in the nearby town he'd grown up in.

"He took a train out west, as far as I know," the kid says, which only manages to crush Davey's heart even further. "He'd been wanting to go for ages, and I guess he finally had enough savings for a ticket. I figure he's probably in California or New Mexico these days."

Davey can hardly breathe. This can't be happening. He's not sure he's ever felt heartbreak before, but this is certainly as close as he's ever come. He's completely and utterly shattered.

"Oh... thank you for telling me," he says, forcing himself to keep his composure. "I'll get out of your way, then."

He doesn't wait for an answer, simply takes off back towards the house. He runs straight to his bedroom, ignoring Les's calls to come play with him and his mother shouting that he knows better than to run in the halls— he simply slams his door behind him and throws himself onto his bed. He grabs a pillow to hide his face, and he _screams_.

This isn't fair. He _is_ selfish, just like Jack said, because all he wants is for that stupid boy that he loves so much to be here with him. Jack was supposed to stay and wait for him and forgive him— he had it all planned out in his head. They were going to be _happy_ , but now Jack doesn't want him anymore and everything is ruined.

Seven months, Jack has been gone— Davey probably doesn't even cross his mind these days. He's probably brushed it all off as some failed teenage romance and found someone new to love instead. It's like he didn't even _care_ that Davey would miss him.

He throws his pillow at the wall, and splays out on his back to stare at the ceiling.

"I hate you!" he shouts into the air, as if Jack can hear him, thousands of miles away. "I love you so much, Jack Kelly, and I _hate_ you for it! I hope you never fall in love with anyone ever again!"

And then he throws his arms over his face and sobs, utterly broken. Everything he's read about first loves in stupid romance books must be true, because he's never, ever going to love anyone the way he's loved Jack.


	2. bonus alternate ending!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is... the other way i was thinking of ending this story! it's also sad, but in a different way.
> 
> cw: character death

_1868_.

It's Davey's first day back at the summer home, and he's been wandering the grounds by himself all day.

The new boarding school wasn't so bad, really, and he's honestly rather excited to go back for his senior year in the fall. It's a lot harder than his old school, a private academy near their other home in Manhattan that he'd attended with Sarah for years, but he sort of enjoys the challenge. He's even made some friends, which he was worried he wouldn't be able to do without his sister by his side.

He owes Jack an apology. He's grown a lot this year, and he can finally see that everything Jack said was true— he's been selfish and naive for too long, and he needed the rude awakening. He's ready to try again, and perhaps do a better job of keeping their secret rendezvous an _actual_ secret, if only Jack will have him. He's got an open heart, and if Jack can forgive him, he'd love to let him back in.

The problem he's facing right now is that Jack is nowhere to be seen. He's walked in loops around the property and has yet to run into him— so he eventually finds himself wandering into the stables, hoping that maybe someone here might have a clue as to where Jack is.

"Hey," he interrupts a boy about his own age who's shovelling straw into one of the stalls. "Have you seen Jack around at all today?"

The kid— he might go by Racetrack, if Davey remembers correctly— stops what he's doing to look up at him.

"You mean Jack _Kelly_?"

"Yeah, I've been looking for him," Davey replies. "Do you know where he's at?"

Racetrack pales, and his expression reads as if Davey has just asked something he _really_ shouldn't have. He's silent for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say.

"Oh, um..." he trails off, which makes Davey horribly nervous. "You see, sir, there was this horrible bout of pneumonia that went around over the winter..."

Davey's heart nearly stops.

"No," he whispers. "Don't tell me he..."

Race nods solemnly, and Davey immediately feels as if he's been struck by a tidal wave of grief. It's crushing, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe.

Jack is _gone_. That's not how this was supposed to go. Davey had been scared that Jack would leave him— but he'd only gone so far as to imagine him moving away or something. He'd thought maybe Jack wouldn't forgive him and would choose to find work somewhere else so they wouldn't have to see each other anymore. He hadn't even _considered_ the possibility of something like this.

"The fever took him in his sleep," Race sighs. "It was about as peaceful as dying can be, if that's any comfort. He wasn't hurting or scared or nothing."

Davey knows better than to cry in front of _anyone_ , let alone someone he hardly knows, but the empathetic, sad smile that Race gives him very nearly breaks him.

"He's buried in the graveyard in town, right next to his mother," Race continues. "Your folks were kind enough to pay for all of it— they got him a real nice headstone with roses etched on it, since they were his favourite plant to look after."

They knew. His parents knew what happened, and they didn't even tell him.

Davey could scream, he feels so horribly betrayed. Even with everything that happened last summer aside, Jack had been one of Davey's only friends for so long... while he would get picked on at school all throughout the year, he could come here in the summer and know that he had someone on his side. His parents _knew_ that— Jack had even joined the family for dinner more times than Davey can count and had plenty of conversations with them. They clearly cared about him, considering that they had a custom headstone made. Were they really so ashamed of the way Davey loved him to not even bother mentioning that he _died_?

"That's really lovely," is what ends up coming out of his mouth, though his voice breaks in the middle and he's powerless to stop it. "I'm sure he's resting very peacefully, and he's happy to be with his mother."

Race can obviously tell Davey is struggling to keep it together, and he offers yet another sad smile.

"There's actually something he wanted you to have, now that I think of it," Race says, lighting up a little. He laughs softly. "Well, he never actually told me that, but I know he was practicing his letters so he could write your name real nice on it— I figured I should keep it and give to you if you came back this year. I'll go get it, if you want."

That's what officially makes Davey break. He's only able to nod, and then as Race runs off to go find whatever this mysterious keepsake is, he claps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut as his tears refuse to be contained any longer. Jack was trying to learn how to write for him— it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard. He can't _breathe_. Jack was waiting for him just like Davey had hoped, he was even working on a _gift_ for him; if he hadn't gotten sick, he'd be here and they could be happy together. Jack _must_ have forgiven him at some point— why would he do something so thoughtful if he hadn't?

They were going to be okay. If it hadn't been for some horrible disease, come to rip Jack away, Davey could have him back. This isn't _fair_.

He wipes hurriedly at his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath once he can hear Race's footsteps returning— as if that'll somehow make it look like he isn't having a complete and total meltdown. It had been drilled into him from an early age that he ought to never show his thoughts or feelings on his face, always keep his expression schooled into formal politeness, but he supposes that's gone right out the window for now.

"Here it is," Race says. He's holding a makeshift scrapbook of sorts— the pages are all different sizes, likely just whatever bits of parchment Jack could get his hands on, and it's bound messily together with twine. Across the front is _For Davy_ , in wobbly handwriting that almost looks like a child's. However, knowing that Jack wrote it qualifies it as the most beautiful penmanship Davey has ever seen.

"This is incredible," Davey whispers, hardly audible past the lump in his throat. "Thank you."

He takes the book into his hands, and flips idly through the pages— there are drawings covering every inch of parchment, from scenery around the gardens to portraits of Davey himself. There's even dried flowers pressed between some of the pages, and there's one page near the end where the alphabet has been traced and retraced, over and over. It's like holding a book made of Jack's thoughts and memories.

"Um, I was thinking of going into town to visit him tomorrow morning," Race says, after a long moment of silence. It almost seems as if he's teared up a little too, and his voice is much softer than before. "Me and Medda take him flowers every couple weeks— he was kinda like my big brother, and Medda always looked after us, so we both take care of his grave now. You're welcome to join us if you want, sir."

Davey swallows thickly and nods, willing his voice not to break when he speaks.

"I'd be happy to come along." He offers Race a pitiful attempt at a smile, having mostly regained his composure for now. He'll break down once he's alone, but he can put on his best brave face until then. "And there's no need to call me sir— it's just Davey, especially since you're family of Jack's."

Now, Davey knows there's a good chance he's been flippant or rude to Race in the past, as it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to fully realize that people working for his family were _real people_ , but he's hopeful that he can make amends now. If he owes anything to Jack, even if it's just to his legacy at this point, it's to be a little kinder and more thoughtful to everyone around him. He can be better, and he _will_ be better, because he's already living out years that Jack never got to see. The very least he can do is live a life that Jack would be proud of.

"Of course," Race replies, seemingly a little amused by Davey's effort to be nice, but clearly appreciative. "Just meet us out here around dawn, then. I oughta get back to work— see you tomorrow, Davey."

Davey nods, waves, and fakes a smile before taking off for the house. He finds himself running, trying to at least keep his meltdown contained until he gets to his room, even when his mother shouts that he's far too old to be running in the halls.

He collapses once he's there, his back against his door, and he squeezes Jack's book against his chest as he finally sobs. It's raw and almost guttural— he's never even had the urge to cry like this before, in his entire life.

He loved Jack, and Jack loved him. They were supposed to be _happy_. They could have loved each other for a lifetime— they'd sneak around everyone who thought their love was wrong, and they'd be happy together, forever. It would have been _perfect_ , but Jack didn't even live to see seventeen, and now what felt like true love will go down as nothing more than a fleeting teenage romance.

Davey, with every ounce of his being, truly believes that he's never going to be okay again. He can't imagine a world where he isn't utterly destroyed and heartbroken forever— he wanted nothing but Jack, and now Jack is _dead_. He can hardly believe he thought his life was _ruined_ when he found out about boarding school last summer— it seems so trivial now, and he finally understands why it made Jack so angry. Once you've felt this grief, everyday problems seem like blessings.

"I love you," he whispers, and while he's talking to thin air, he hopes Jack can hear him somehow. He hugs the scrapbook a little tighter and sobs again. When he tries to go on, he can hardly get a word out without his breath hitching. "I love— I love you so much, Jack. I'm so sorry. _I miss you_."

He drops his head and just lets himself cry. He has no idea what he's going to do without his first love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... yeah. 
> 
> idk how i felt about this, it's definitely not my best writing, and i think the other ending satisfies the story a little better, but the people wanted to see ending B so here it is! very heartwrenching and less bittersweet than the other one :(
> 
> please leave a comment!! which ending did you like better?

**Author's Note:**

> aww :( 
> 
> poor davey, but it's probably for the better. it's open to interpretation, but i like to think jack realized his worth and knew he wouldn't be happy in this relationship with an inherent power dynamic. he really loved davey but he knew they wouldn't work together.
> 
> i also had an alternate ending where jack stayed, but it's actually even sadder, so if anyone wants to read that i can post it at some point! i spent ages going back and forth between the two endings, but ultimately chose this one bc i think both characters' arcs are satisified a little better. i'm definitely open to sharing ending #2 though, so it might see the light of day soon!
> 
> i hope u enjoyed!! please leave a comment, or rb the post if you came from tumblr :)


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